The Maccabees Last Ever Show, Alexandra Palace, Saturday 1st July 2017.
I’ve been thinking about that gig for the last few days now. In the lead up to it, I knew seeing The Maccabees for the last time would be emotional, but I hadn’t anticipated it would have quite this effect. They’re like old friends. Standing next to fellow-fans on Saturday night who have seen them upwards of 50 times, I began to feel a little fraudulent, but this is a band that mean so, so much to me.
Trying to totter up how many times I’ve seen them myself, I reckon we’re at more than 10 but less than 20 but, that’s at least once a year since I first heard about them. I’m not quite as emotionally connected as some of the other fans I’ve seen who have had the band see them through heartache and upheaval – thankfully my life hasn’t had too much of that in recent years. That said, they have always been there. Some how two or three of their songs always manage to make it on to any new playlist, and they’re still my ‘most played’ on Last FM.
The Maccabees have always been good. Better than the record, and reliable. I’ve never seen them on bad form, and Saturday night was no exception. I just felt like I needed to note down these feelings that I’m feeling for prosperity. Despite it being the final show, it still didn’t feel like the end. Maybe they’ll all go on to do cool things that I’ll enjoy too, and it’s not like I’m now banned from adding their songs to my playlists – that would be cause for true heartbreak 💔.
We were only kids then…
It feels like a chapter of my life is over, and whether it’s symbolically through this final concert, or because I’m turning 28 this year, that’s weird. They’ve been a constant, it’s not that my music tastes have changed much anyway but I felt like I really invested in them; buying t-shirts and EPs, following their obscure side projects – and hanging those projects up in my living room – not to mention the fluttering at a particular way a live vocal has been arranged and making sure I catch them live even if it’s just on TV and not actually live.
I wasn’t the girl bursting any eardrums on Saturday night but I sung along as loud as I always have and got sweatier than I ever have done. It felt so bittersweet when it all finished and echos of ‘Something Like Happiness’ came in and out as we walked back to the car.
If you love them, go ahead and tell them…
I surprised myself, I cry at everything these days; cute old people, sad dogs, the weight of existence… So when no tears came during my favourite songs, as they have done a couple of times before, I thought I might have overcome this. Seeing them all well-up on stage after the final song though, I felt it. I wanted to know why they’re leaving when it makes them so sad… But then, all good things come to an end I suppose and it makes being there that night all the more special and allows my relationship with The Maccabees to continue to be as special as it always has been.
They made 17 year old me’s dreams come true by bringing out Jamie T, because of course they did, because they’re the best! And Jack Peñate, of ‘best friend of Adele and for some reason a recluse’ fame. After seeing a snap of the previous night’s performance with Marcus Mumford on stage, I kind of just expected a repeat and kicked myself for allowing spoilers, but they surprised and they didn’t allow it to take away from it being their night.
It’s actually pretty difficult to put into words how it feels to be glad that you were somewhere. I’ve had those moments at Glastonbury and even other Maccabees gigs (Hey, 2009 rise of Mumford & Sons) but these songs, and these guys, they really, really mean something to me and I can’t quite put that part into words, but I’m still going to keep putting their stuff on my walls.
Plus, you know, I’ll be front-row-centre if they ever change their mind. 💓